had arrived at any conclusion Holly came back, bearing a glass containing[163] a milky-white liquid and a silver spoon. [163] “It’s past the time,” she said. “Then you shouldn’t have bothered to bring it,” answered Winthrop, regretfully. “But never mind; we’ll try and remember it at supper time.” “But you must take it now,” persisted Holly, firmly. “But I fear it wouldn’t do any good. You see, your Aunt said distinctly an hour before meals. The psychological moment has passed, greatly to my rel—regret.” “Please!” said Holly, holding the glass toward him. “You know it’s doing you heaps of good.” “Yes, but that’s just it, don’t you see, Miss Holly? If I continue to take it I’ll be quite well in no time, and that would never do. Would you deprive your Aunt of the pleasure she is now enjoying of dosing[164] me thrice a day with the most nauseous mixture that was ever invented?” [164] “Shucks! It isn’t so terribly bad,” laughed Holly. Winthrop observed her sternly. “Have you sampled it, may I ask?” Holly shook her head. “Then please do so. It will do you lots of good, besides preventing you from making any more well-meant but inaccurate remarks. And you have been looking a bit pale the last day or two, Miss Holly.” Holly viewed the mixture dubiously, hesitatingly. “Besides, you said ‘Shucks,’ and you owe yourself punishment.” “Well——” Holly swallowed a spoonful, tried not to shiver, and absolutely succeeded in smiling brightly afterwards. “Well?” asked Winthrop, anxiously. “I—I think it has calomel in it,” said Holly.
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